Page 15 of Brutal Secrets
He moans and starts sucking my other breast as he kicks my legs wide with his knees, running his hands up my arms until he’s holding me down on the mattress.
“Vadim?” My voice sounds breathy and small.
“Show me how you are wet for me.” He spreads me wider with his knees and looks between my legs. “Fuck yeah.”
His breath saws in and out of his nostrils as he stares at my wet and swollen center. But he’s not looking at my face. He hasn’t even kissed me.
I screw my eyes shut and go still, turning my head to the side and telling myself it won’t hurt. His hands run down my body and his warm mouth lands between my legs. I will myself somewhere else. I don’t know when he stops, but he stills and presses a kiss to the soft skin of my inner thigh.
“Kesera?”
I don’t reply.
“Zolotaya?”
I’m too embarrassed and scared to answer as he rises onto his forearms and puts space between us.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” He’s breathing heavily as he gazes down at me. Pale blue eyes search mine for something—something I don’t understand.
I squeeze mine shut and turn my head away. When I open them, he’s waiting above me.
“Forgive me.” His arctic eyes search my face.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I whisper. I mean it. It went too fast. I shut down.
He stares at me for long moments, and I look back, waiting. Waiting for him to come back to me, for that white fire between us to blaze back to life. But he wrenches away from me and sits on the edge of the bed, his back to me.
“What kind of a host am I?” He puts his head in his hands and shakes it as if shrugging off a bad memory. He doesn’t look back at me as I lie back on this strange bed and look at his stiff shoulders hunched away from me. “There’s hot water and towels in the bathroom behind that door. You’re welcome to borrow any of my clothes.”
He stands and paces to the door, and I stare at his retreating back until the door snicks shut behind him.
What the hell just happened? One minute, I was ready for him to devour me, and the next, he couldn’t even look at me? God, I made a mess of things. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him away.
Mumbling under my breath and feeling awkward, I walk toward the bathroom. I grab a towel from the stack of threadbare linen in a cupboard on the wall, then turn the tap and watch the running water until the steam begins to rise.What the hell am I doing here? Stranded in the Russian woods, miles from home, with nothing to look forward to but an argument with Jimmy at the airport.
I’m so damn tired. That moment when Vadim put his arms around me was the first time since my dad died that I felt like I could let my guard down. I just wanted to be loved so badly that I’m imagining things that don’t exist with a man I’ve just met.
“I’m a fool,” I say to myself as I step into the shower. My words echo against the tiles.
I step under the stream and let the hot water wash away the tears that begin to trickle from my eyes. I really thought I’d have control over who was in my life once I was famous. I thought people would flock to me. I thought fame was the answer, but it’s just brought more questions and I’m lonelier than ever.
I don’t know what I’m doing wrong with men. The guys in my band make jokes about not wanting to sleep with me. My manager wants to force it on me when I’ve made it clear I don’t want him. Then, when I finally find a man I want, I can’t handle him.
Tipping my head beneath the water, I scrub my skin, trying to wash away my shame, fear, and confusion. By the time I emerge from the bathroom, the house is silent.
“Vadim?” I call, walking through the empty rooms. My voice echoes back at me.
Chapter Eleven
There wasn’t much in the village shop this morning, but I found some rye bread and some eggs and butter. I’ve beaten them in a bowl with salt and pepper as I wait for Kesera to emerge from the bathroom.
I’ve got no business bringing a soft, pretty girl like this into the woods with me. She hasn’t eaten for hours, and she’s exhausted after flying halfway across the world to sing for a bunch of rich assholes, and what do I do? I ferry her out to the middle of nowhere and take off all her clothes.
God. Last night. What the fuck did I think I was doing? Stripping off that dress and looking at her tiny, pert little breasts pouting up from her chest and just begging for my mouth. She’s so petite and she was so tired, flopping against the mattress. I’d had to put her arms into that t-shirt of mine like a rag doll.
I wanted to climb all over her this morning once she was awake. Fuck her. Claim her. Suck her skin till she’s covered in bite marks so that everyone knows she’s mine. I’m a fucking animal. But I won’t touch her after what I saw in that room. I don’t get my kicks from sex with unwilling women. I thought she wanted it. She was moaning and wet and swollen, and then she just froze.
Bending over the counter, I stare at the pale-yellow eggs. My fingers grip chipped Formica before moving toward a jar of dill pickles. I put them down idly and close my eyes as the tiny kitchen with its broken oven and rattling fridge fades out of view.